


Two Is The Loneliest Number

by locusdesperatus



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal Sex, Comfort Sex, Dubious Morality, Gun Kink, M/M, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27718456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locusdesperatus/pseuds/locusdesperatus
Summary: Leon's string of bad luck continues, but not in the way that he'd expected, and he decides to take some time for... Self exploration.re6!Leon/re4!Leon
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Leon S. Kennedy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	Two Is The Loneliest Number

He really should've known better.

Whenever the government asked him to check something out, things went wrong. It didn't matter if it was a new gun, a communicator, a protective vest- anything could and would backfire spectacularly. Therefore, he really, _really_ should have guessed that something called an "enhanced virtual training system" would fuck up his day. 

"Uh-" He stared, eyes wide.

"Who are you?" 

Leon couldn't shake himself out of his own head as he looked his younger self up and down. He didn't remember his voice being so pitchy, and he certainly didn't remember his hands trembling as he held his Red-9. Unfortunately, he did remember, with frightening accuracy, the bruises and sunken eyes, how incredibly, horribly _exhausted_ he'd been. 

"Uh- I was sent to- to check on you?"

Maybe it was better to just weasel his way out of this. 

"Bull." 

Perfectly manicured nails, the pristine bleach job of his hair… Fuck. He was getting old. Leon cleared his throat.

"Fine. You're not going to believe me anyways. I was testing out a device for uh… the government, and it must have glitched or something, because as far as I know, there's not supposed to be two of us."

"Us?" His younger self finally lowered his weapon, though Leon couldn't tell if it was because he didn't feel threatened or because he simply didn't have the strength to hold it up any longer. His twin took several steps forward, putting them nearly chest to chest. Boldly, he slipped his hands around the curve of Leon's waist, squeezing gently before moving down to his thighs.

"Hey!" Leon jolted at the touch. He should've expected a pat down, who was he kidding? The younger Agent Kennedy grabbed him by the front of his shirt, reeling him in. His knuckles were bandaged and bloody, damaged from all the fighting he'd been forced to engage in while in Spain.

"Prove it." He hissed. His fingers graced Leon's cheek, brushing his hair aside to investigate the faded scar beneath his bangs. It was still a raw wound on his younger face, which was softer and still clinging to the last bits of his baby fat. To really drive it home, Leon pulled aside the collar of his shirt, exposing the little round patch of scar tissue just beneath his clavicle. His younger self rubbed at it, as if expecting it to come off.

"How is this possible?"

"You're going to ask that after Spain? If I hadn't been there first hand, I would believe time travel over giant ogres and invisible bugs." Leon pointed out. His younger self frowned.

"I suppose. How do we fix it?" He said. "I haven't watched a sci-fi flick since The Fifth Element came out." 

"Don't remind me." Leon said. He knew that both of them were thinking about the awkward boner he'd gotten upon seeing Leeloo's skimpy costume. Shaking his head to rid himself of that embarrassing memory, he refocused on his twin. He was staring at the exposed 'V' of Leon's chest, frowning to himself.

"Do you always dress this… provocatively?" 

"I-what- this isn't-!" Leon cut himself off at the slide of cool metal over his bare skin. The gun was back, tracing along his sternum. Thankfully, his twin's finger was resting alongside the trigger guard, showing off how much control he had.

"I was going to ask if we were into the same things, but…"

Leon shivered when a clever hand cupped his crotch, squeezing the half-mast erection he'd begun to boast. He couldn't help it, he kind of had a thing for guns and danger. His younger self was laser focused, feeling him up through his slacks and staring intently at the way his hips rocked in response.

"I want to fuck you."

Leon felt blood rush south at the words. He opened his mouth to protest, but the words died in his throat when cold metal traced up his neck, nudging at his chin. The gun eased over his stubble, his twin's pupils blown wide as he pressed the barrel between pliant, pink lips.

"And I think you want it, too." The Stratcom agent breathed. He looked desperate, frazzled, like a million thoughts were battling for real estate inside of his head. Leon remembered that, remembered how alone he'd felt, dealing with the aftermath of Spain in the darkness of his shitty apartment. Perhaps he could fix that, make it better. He tentatively curled his tongue around the gun, tasting the residual chemicals and oil. It slid in deeper, and he closed his eyes in concentration, feeling a little moan sneak out. 

"Clothes off. Get on the bed." His younger self ordered, pulling the gun away. It was slick with spit, a long string hanging from the end of the barrel. Leon shivered, but obeyed, shrugging out of his vest and working at the buttons of his dress shirt. His shoes, socks, and slacks were next, tossed into a heap on the floor. With his twin's gaze on him, he could feel his cheeks burn as he revealed that he hadn't been wearing any underwear. 

"Do they pay you more if you dress like a slut?" His younger self hissed. There was barely any venom in it, clouded over with arousal instead. Leon sat down on the bed, running a hand through his hair.

"No, baby," he purred, finally finding his wit again. "This is all for me- us, if you will."

His twin snorted, tossing his hair out of his face. He edged towards the bed, shaky hands pulling at his clothes. From experience, Leon knew he was sore and uncoordinated, his nerves fried and brain too tired to make sense of tight shirts and complicated buckles.

"Let me." He insisted. His fingers grazed warm skin, brazen but gentle as he skirted across bruised ribs and sore abs. A hot puff of air brushed against his cheek, his twin clearly enjoying the intimacy. Leon took it as encouragement to go further, and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against a nasty mark from the chest harness he'd worn throughout the mission in Spain. While it was sturdy and reliable, the leather was harsh, constricting his lungs if it was yanked on too hard. His hands pushed the compression shirt up and over trembling shoulders, leaving his younger self to fuss with tossing it aside while he indulged his curiosity. 

Now that the shock had died down, he was enjoying the chance to explore his own body as he would another lover's. There were subtle differences between them- the protruding ribs, concave stomach, tiny wrists, all hallmarks of his past battles with the angriest parts of his brain. Deep down, he hoped that seeing himself a little healthier and a little older would help redirect that anger. 

Sudden, insistent hands in his hair made him moan, his jaw dropping from where he'd latched onto his twin's nipple and begun to gently flick his tongue back and forth over the tip of it. Leon was painfully aware of how inexperienced he was. His only real lover before this had been Krauser, which meant that baby Leon was just as deprived as he was. They'd had sex- lots of it- but it was all selfish quickies in bathroom stalls and rough sessions of heavy petting, made difficult by the cramped space of the maintenance closets that Krauser preferred to drag him into. 

There has never been anything quite as intimate as this. 

"I think we should make a deal." He gasped out, craning his neck in order to knock their foreheads together. His brain stuttered for a moment as gentle teeth nipped at his bottom lip. "I don't want to be like Krauser. I want to go slow and- and do this the way we've always wanted." 

"You have grown soft."

Leon snorted as bony fingers prodded at the bit of pudge clinging to his stomach.

"Don't you want that? To be safe for one night?"

"And how do I know I'm safe?" The younger Leon had the gun in his hand within seconds, gently, almost lovingly, running it over his twin's throat.

"You have the gun." 

"I don't want to fight you."

"You won't have to." Leon breathed out. He closed his eyes as cold metal brushed against the hollow between his collarbones.

"Will you let me do whatever I want?" His twin asked.

"Yes."

"I want to take you apart. I want to make you beg and whine. I want to- to-"

"You want to make me hurt in all the ways that you can't hurt yourself." Leon finished. His younger self was putty in his hands as he forced them together into a searing kiss. "If that's what it takes, then I'm game."

"You can't fix me, old man." There was a violent tremble hidden behind his voice, the mask of confidence beginning to crumble.

"No, no I can't." Leon agreed. "But I can help." He grunted when he was shoved backwards onto the bed, wiry fingers wrapping around his throat and _squeezing._ His breathing was raspy, choked off but still enough to keep him conscious. The gun drew his attention away from his windpipe, down to the crease of his hip. 

"Maybe." His younger self said, his eyebrows knit into a deep frown. "Maybe we can go slow, but first I need to see this. I need to do this to you. I want to see you take it, I want to _know_ that we can do it."

Leon felt his cheeks burn. He already knew what it was that they wanted, what they were dancing towards. Krauser had once threatened to fuck him with the business end of his 9mm, sending awful waves of arousal through him and forever taunting his fantasies. The Red 9 was much smaller than that, much more nuanced in its bulk. He could do this, he could take it. He _wanted_ it. 

"Then hurt me." He wheezed out. The grip on his throat tightened, shoving his head backwards into the bedspread. He was still hard, his cock pulsing as the gun traced the length of it and circled his balls. Spit landed just below his perineum, and he groaned, eyes shooting open.

"Wait-" he tapped gently on the wrist poised to choke him out. "I'm not as young as I used to be." 

The younger Leon scoffed, but stepped away, shedding his pants as he moved around the room. He was wearing dark grey briefs, the front stained where the head of his cock rubbed against the fabric. It was gratifying to see that he was getting off on the show. He returned with an innocuous bottle of lube, making a show of coating the gun in it. Leon held his hand out, taking it from him.

"What? Don't trust me?" His twin asked.

"I do, but I thought you might like to watch this part." He coated his own fingers in the slick substance before dipping them between his legs and easing them inside of himself. He had to admit that it had been a while, and even just two digits were pushing his limits. It was worth it for the look on his double's face, for the way he stared openly at the needy thrust of his fingers. Leon reminded him quietly, gently, that he could touch, inviting the hesitant skirt of cold hands along his thighs. The gun teased him, rubbing gently at his stretched rim. Distantly, he wondered whether or not the safety was on. The shiver that ran through him couldn't be suppressed, leading him to scissor himself one last time before removing his fingers completely.

"Go ahead." He breathed.

"You said I could hurt you, did you mean it?" His twin breathed. They were still staring between his legs, brow furrowed.

"Yes. Hurt me." Leon managed to hold his voice steady. All of the preamble fell away when he was struck across the face, the barrel catching on the skin of his cheek. A heady moan escaped him before he could stop himself, tasting copper on his tongue. His body felt like lead, stuck to the mattress as rough hands pinched and groped him. Could he overpower his younger self? Possibly, but that wasn't what this was about. This was about giving in and letting take and give until they were on a level playing field. At 28 years old, his double was still fighting every horrible nightmare, every joke made at his expense, the weight of Sherry's life on his shoulders- everything. He needed this. _They_ needed this. 

The gun dipped between his legs once more, pushing relentlessly at his hole until it slipped inside. Leon arched his back and moaned, his fingers twisting in the sheets. It was cold and unyielding, scraping across his prostate in brutal strokes. Oh, he loved it. His cock jumped and twitched, leaking obscenely and leaving a puddle of precum in the little bit of hair that had grown in on his belly. 

Above him, his twin was panting, pupils blown wide with lust. He licked his lips as he watched the gun saw in and out of his double's body, welcomed in deeper and easier each time.

"You really are a whore." He breathed out.

Leon laughed breathlessly, choking off into a pained moan as the gun ground relentlessly against his prostate.

"We both are." He whispered, finally able to catch his breath. A punishing jab against his insides made him cry out, though it was tinged with a smile, proud of himself for hitting a nerve. "Sometimes it feels good to be wanted."

"Who would want me?" His younger self asked idly, guiding the gun in a little deeper. He clicked off the safety, making Leon jolt beneath him and tense up. Panic bubbled up in his throat. It was all fun and games until someone got hurt.

"Easy." He breathed. "Wait-" His hands fumbled as he latched onto his twin. "Wait. Let me- This is too much for both of us. Let me take care of you."

"I don't need to be babied, I'm not a rookie anymore, I'm not a kid, I'm-"

"I know." Leon flipped the safety back on before easing the gun out of himself. He let out a long breath when it fell against the bedsheets. "Listen, I'd like nothing more than to let you have your way with me, but…"

"There's nothing wrong with me!" 

Leon grunted as his younger self tried to grab the gun again. He intercepted flailing limbs, wrestling with him until a pained whine reached his ears. 

"Stop." He whispered. "Stop, it's okay. You're not- I shouldn't have- this was dumb. I'm sorry." He sighed, reaching up and smoothing out tousled blond hair. "I mean- this has gotta be some sort of sin, right?"

"I don't care!" 

Sharp teeth sunk into Leon's bottom lip, dragging him downwards. They were accompanied by desperate hands sliding up his neck and cupping his cheeks. He couldn't pull himself away, a wave of need overtaking every voice screaming at him that this was too far, that it was dangerous. His brain was overloaded, swimming in affection. It had been so long, so long since someone had _wanted_ him. He knew the pain and loneliness his twin was going through was a thousand times worse.

"Wait!" He forced himself to stop. "I'm not doing this out of pity. Let me take care of you the way that I wish someone had cared for me." He begged. "Please, Leon."

"I don't want to be cared for, I want to-"

"Scream, hurt someone. Throw things, punch a wall. I know. I've been there." Leon whispered. "And I know what it's like to come down from those thoughts and be all alone. Let me do this, and if you still feel like a caged lion afterwards, then you can use me as a punching bag."

"Fine." His younger self huffed, settling down onto the bed. "What are you-"

Leon didn't wait for him to finish, leaning in to attack the column of his neck. He lazily ground their hips together as he painted hickies up and down the length of his double's throat. They would be a bitch to explain away, but the heat and the deep-seated arousal was worth it. This was what he'd craved upon returning from Spain. Closeness, being held and coddled, soft kisses on his neck and shoulders, wandering hands squeezing his waist and petting him- _reassuring_ him- that he was home, he was safe. He would give it all to his younger self if it meant that they could both find a little peace.

The grind of their hips became more urgent as he continued lavishing attention on bruised skin, careful to avoid sore spots and pay special attention to the faded burn left behind by Luis' machine. 

"It's gone, I promise it's gone." He whispered, lapping at the edge of the damaged tissue. Taking a bit of it between his teeth, he sucked on it until shaking hands tugged on his hair. Red blossomed between the imprint of his front teeth, the skin swollen and wet. If he had his way, he'd leave lovebites on every piece of himself that he felt insecure about. It was unreal to be able to see himself this way, to touch and squeeze and _worship_ the parts that he felt insecure about. If it would help, he would dote on every scar, every spot and freckle, every blemish. Perhaps this was what he needed as well. 

He made his way down to the hem of his double's briefs, flipping up the elastic to kiss the sensitive skin just beneath the waistband. The hands in his hair tightened as he pulled the fabric down, the hard cock hidden underneath nearly slapping him in the face. Greedily, he took it into his mouth, relishing the pitchy, wanton moans coming from above him. Admittedly, he was showing off. He'd always given good head, but after taking some time to reacquaint his throat with his old toys, his gag reflex was nearly non-existent. 

"Wait- wait!" 

He still heard that same tone sometimes, in his dreams. Nightmares about hands grabbing him by the shoulders, dark whispers in Spanish that flooded his brain and made his hair stand on end. He could hear himself yell as Krauser's hands, big and bruising, wound around his throat.

"Ah!" His sweet little double was keening, his thighs clenching down around the head between his legs. "I'm gonna-"

Leon pulled back, face flushed. He smashed their mouths together, demanding and rushed as he struggled to straddle boney hips and line himself up. More than anything, he wanted to fuck himself silly and prove to both of them that this could work without violence or guns. The stretch was nice- bordering on pain, just the way he liked it. Beneath him, the baby face he'd always been teased for let out a moan, eyes locked onto the way his cock was disappearing into his older self's body. 

"I don't think this is what he meant-" Leon let out a little chuckle, steadying himself as he swayed. "When he- when Krauser- said I should go fuck myself." 

He treasured the eye roll he got in response, picking up the pace a little and allowing himself to really and truly enjoy it. While neither of them were particularly… _big_ , it was just enough to satisfy him. He prided himself on being easy to please in bed, and having the opportunity to really and truly experience himself was undeniably erotic. 

He was definitely going to hell for this, but it was worth it.

"Fuck yeah!" He hissed. One of his double's shaky hands wrapped around his erection, making him moan aloud. The texture of the bandages made it all the better, coaxing him into bucking his hips forward as well as backwards. He was chasing two pleasure highs, caught between a rock and a hard place- no pun intended. It didn't take long for him to work up a sweat as he bounced himself on a carbon copy of his own cock. His little twin was huffing and whining, using his free hand to grope and squeeze the trembling thighs on either side of his hips. The snarky little brat had bitten and chewed on his lips until they were red and swollen, begging to be kissed. Leon couldn't resist, folding himself like a pretzel in order to reach. Everything was hazy and dull, drawing them both towards each other and away from the demons rough housing in the back of their heads. 

Through their climaxes, they traded off biting and nipping at each others' necks. The sensitivity made both of them shake and nestle closer, abandoning the tacky, sticky mess between them as they collapsed onto the bed. Leon shivered at the filthy feeling of cum seeping between his legs, sliding down the back of his thigh. He grunted as he was shoved onto his back, half expecting another fight. Instead, his twin gingerly crawled over top of him, tipping their heads together for more affection. Leon couldn't resist returning the favor, winding their legs together and draping his arm over the curve of his bed partner's waist. While gentle, he was also firm, trying to act as both pillow and anchor. 

"Does it get better? Easier?" 

Leon stared up at the ceiling, torn between comforting his twin and not revealing anything.

"Things change." He whispered, fighting to keep the tremble out of his voice. It still hurt to think about Adam- President Benford. There was no way he could lay something like that on his younger self. "I won't lie to you and tell you that everything is sunshine and roses." He took a deep breath. "But there are some things out there worth fighting for, and I know you'll find them. I certainly did."

He felt his eyes close as lazy fingers stretched across his chest, tracing the scar on his shoulder before inching over his pecs. If he wasn't careful, he'd fall asleep here. His double nestled closer, wanting to be held. It was a sentiment he understood. After Spain, he'd felt so vulnerable and alone, trapped in the confines of his apartment. No one had come to check on him, no one had called or emailed- he'd been achingly isolated.

"I'm here." He murmured, turning his head to nose blond bangs out of the way and kiss his twin's forehead. "It'll be alright, I promise." 

"I haven't been-"

"Sleeping, I know." Leon sighed. He carded his fingers through his younger self's hair, suddenly understanding why everyone was so keen on touching it. "You can rest, I've got you." He promised. He kept up the slow petting motion, indulging himself as his eyelids sunk lower and lower, heavy on face. Even years later, the deep wound left by the incident in Spain still stung. The shitty apartment, old mattress, and secondhand furniture all reminded him of his status as government plaything. They didn't care about him. Stratcom didn't, and the DSO certainly didn't either. 

The very least he could do was cut himself a little bit of slack and satiate the parts of them that craved closeness and intimacy. It should have been less embarrassing this way, but he felt the same anxious rumble in his chest that he would have if he had been coddling another person. Like he had a _crush._

Despite the turmoil racking his brain, he couldn't wake back up. It was so easy to bury his nose in soft, blond hair and relax, his focus draining away as exhaustion set in. He could deal with the consequences of this later, especially if it meant that his double would finally get some rest. All those nights spent paranoid and restless had taken more of a toll on him than he wanted to admit. His head lolled as he slipped into unconsciousness, his twin draped over his chest. That weight was a comfort, and as he drifted through his own sleep-deprived skull, it became lighter and lighter until it disappeared completely.

Leon sat up with a gasp, yanking the VR headset off of himself.

Rebecca was sitting in front of him, avoiding his gaze. She looked concerned and embarrassed all at once.

"Well," Chris said, dragging his attention away from the mousy scientist. "I guess you _would_ fuck your own clone." 

Rebecca's panicked yell of "Don't!" Was the only thing that stopped Leon from hucking the bulky device at the BSAA Captain's head.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on Twitter @pointofdespair


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